


I Get Excited Too

by poisontaster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-27
Updated: 2007-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tiny, porny ficlet. With feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get Excited Too

"Yeah, yeah, fuck, Dean, yeah…" Sam's hanging on that ragged edge, just a couple of _really good_ strokes away from coming, when Dean's hand snakes under him, wriggling across his chest to his opposite shoulder. It tickles, and between that and Dean shifting his weight so that Sam's pulled up off his stomach and onto his side, Sam loses it—the rhythm _and_ his incipient orgasm, dammit—all the limbs he doesn't know what to do with at the best of times flailing all over the place.

"Dammit, Dean—what the fuck?" Dean's only barely even in him now, a teasing presence, and Sam wriggles, trying to glare over his shoulder at the same time he struggles to work himself back down on his brother's cock. "I was about to _come_ , asshole!"

Sam thinks that this is probably not the best way to keep Dean in the mood, but there are _rules_. Deeply unspoken but nonetheless really important _rules_ , like: _don't leave a man hanging when he's on the verge of the orgasm of his life._

Which…okay, in terms of overall life and life experience probably isn't a whole lot, especially when compared to the giant man-whore that is his brother, but a lack of relative experience doesn't mean that Sam doesn't have a _God given right_ to that orgasm, just as much as anybody…

Sam's irritated, rambly train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he—and Dean, who's still moving around, despite Sam's protests—finally wriggle around to a position where he can see Dean's face.

Sam likes to believe he's got an encyclopedic knowledge of The Many Faces of Dean Winchester, from **A** , Abashed to **Z** , Zealous and all the smirks and quirks in between. But this is a new one. This is…

"Dean?" He loses focus for a second when Dean shifts again, hips thrusting, hand digging, pulling Sam back onto him, taking Sam deep. Sam's head tips back, eyes fluttering with the influx of _too much_ so that he can only see Dean in shutter-flashes of stop-motion.

Dean makes a quiet noise, face bumping clumsily along Sam's jaw, his cheek. His nose glides next to Sam's eye and his lips drag over the skin. "Just…" He sounds breathless. "Just wanna see. See…" Sam angles his head a little more, neck twisted on the verge of uncomfortable, so he can slur his mouth over Dean's, panting into and against each other as Dean thrusts again, experimental. "See all the ways I can fit into you."

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Sam breathes out, and then Dean moves again—the best shift so far—and there are no more words.


End file.
